


In Your Heart Shall Burn

by Chukuria



Series: Phoenix Series [1]
Category: Original Work
Genre: Angels, Demons, Fantasy, Love, M/M, Magic, Mystery, Original World, Romance, Suspense
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-11-01
Updated: 2017-12-29
Packaged: 2019-01-27 20:02:48
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 3
Words: 7,725
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12589496
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Chukuria/pseuds/Chukuria
Summary: "What are you doing to me?" Silas glared at Cisero, refusing to back down."Nothing, little Angel." Cisero narrowed his glowing yellow eyes at Silas, tracing his gaze to the orange pulse visible through the Angel's shirt. "You're doing that all by yourself.""Don't lie to me." Silas spat, curling his fingers against his sweated palms in an effort to look threatening. There was no denying that his heart was hammering now. The organ was now clearly visible through the plain black T-shirt he was wearing, pumping the orange glow through the major veins and arteries near his heart.***Cisero and Silas, an Angel and Demon, must not only fight off the urge to break the strictest law in Stasis, that is, Phoenix Elites cannot touch, but they must uncover the mysterious deaths of other Phoenixes that keep turning up with their hearts removed.Will they land up like their brethren? Or will their flaming hearts be torn apart by something else entirely...? Perhaps, the deep desire they have for one another...?





	1. Prologue

 

_Long ago, long before our time, a war between Demons and Angels broke out. It lasted centuries, laying waste to many of Heaven and Hell's warriors and turning Earth into a bloody battlefield that coloured the soil red and made rivers run maroon. As time wore on and Angels and Demon continued to fall in a war that seemed endless, other forces amassed in secret. They were known as the Extari, an army of those with hidden talents such as magic and Seer abilities. They sought to end the war between the Angels and Demons thus, forcing the two sides to turn from one another and join their efforts to push back the Extari._

_The battle was short but bloody where most of the Extari were wiped out and those that weren't fled and went into hiding in various dimensions, some opted to stay on Earth. It was through the bravery of the Extari forces that the Angels' and Demons' eyes were opened to the other threats that walked the land. With the remaining Extari scattered through all the different dimensions and their power revealed, the Arch Demons and Angels of the two armies came to an agreement._

_Vulcan, Asirual and Beahatric, siblings and Arches of the Demon army and Gevenious, Zarall and Izural siblings and Arches of the Angel army came together to create a new dimension where Demons and Angels would reside together. Neither one would have more claim over the land than the other and therefore, no need for another war. They poured their power into a single oak seed and from that, grew a new realm, a new dimension called Stasis. It would serve as a control center for other dimensions, a sanctuary for the lost souls that needed guidance and a veil between the living and the dead._

_Only the best Demonic and Angelic warriors were chosen to live and serve here, they were named the Elites. The Elites were given schools, academies, homes and various other facilities that they could wish for to live a healthy life. At the time, the idea seemed perfect until the warriors were killed by intruders and the population slowly dwindled until there was only a handful left. Demon and Angel children are rare and so re-population was slow. It was through the deep thought of Vulcan that the solution arose; immortal warriors, warriors that would rise again after they were slain._

_And so, the Phoenixes were created. Elites chosen by the Arches to have smoldering ember placed inside their chests and merged with their beating hearts. These Phoenix Elites, both Demon and Angel, became the toughest and most respected members of Stasis. If their lives were taken from them, their bodies were fall to ash and from that fallen ash, would rise the fallen with no memory of who they were previously and any imperfection gone, to be replaced by another. They were immortal, to everyone but each other._

_For to become a Phoenix meant giving up the right to touch another, to kiss another and to lay with another. Phoenixes were doomed to a loveless life, kept apart by their Flames. The Flames that burnt in them, in their hearts and gave them their immortality. A single touch would be enough to cause a Phoenix to combust, and a single touch to an Elite would send them up in flames._

_So it became the strictest law in Stasis; **"Thou shall not touch a Phoenix, as a Phoenix shall not touch thou nor another of their kind."**_


	2. To Begin With

_'I don't rise from the ashes, I make them. I 'm the whole fucking fire.'_

**~Erin van Vuren**

*******

 

"Keep you chins up, blades diagonal. You want to block blows not invite them." Cisero moved through the fleet of assembled Demons before him. "There is no reason I should have to repeat myself more than once." The large Demon turned to look into the faces of young Demons fresh out the academy. His broad shoulders rippled as he crossed his arms so his biceps stood out starkly against the plain brown leather vest he was wearing. "How do you suppose you're going to be able to defend yourself if you can't even hold a blade properly?" He arched his eyebrows so his eerie yellow eyes widened. "You need to be a Demon. If you want to be a damn Angel you're welcome to join them." He pointed upwards where a fleet of the fore mentioned creatures were gliding overhead. Cisero tilted his head to look upwards so the setting sun highlighted his strong jaw and pointed chin. "There they are. Off you go." He looked back at the Demons staring at him and now that he had moved, his broken nose was easy to see. He waited for a moment before he spoke again. "No one? Right then." He clapped his hands and made the new recruits jump. "Swords up." He raked a hand through his hair styled in an undercut and stopped to scratch the base of one thick black horn. "And one, two, three." He pulled his own sword off his back with an effortless grace that defied how bulky he was. Cisero moved in a practiced motion so the young ones could follow his movements. As he watched a smile touched his black lips, of course he had to be hard on them, how was he supposed to get results if he treated them like babies?

Cisero had been training fleet after fleet of new soldiers the entire day and had to admit he was more than a little grateful that this was the last one for the day. The light had started to bother his grey tinted skin and he was eager to get to  back to his dimension under Middle Ground where it was pleasantly dark and he could escape the irritation of the light. He twisted to face the front again and halted with his blade parallel to his palm. "Like that." He said and slid the sword back into the scabbard. He stopped to yawn momentarily, exposing his canines before he covered his mouth with a hand and rubbed his stubble covered chin. He recrossed his arms and flicked his thick grey tail to create some type of movement in his stiff spine. The General had to give them credit though, they were fast learners, eager to get out there and show what they were made of. Cisero found he had another thing to be thankful for that day; there had been no Phoenixes among the trainees, no threat of imminent combustion. He had no problem with the Phoenixes, after all himself was one, but they were a bother to train when there were other Elites around. He was always worried there would be that one clumsy Demon that would fall over their own foot and tumble into the immortal warrior. Then there wouldn't only be a few bodies to clean up, there would, once again, be a new Reincarnate to teach. 

He rubbed a hand over the back of his neck, over the line of spikes that grew from the base of his skull all the way down his spine and craned his head back in time to see one of the Angels that had been drifting overhead was now tumbling towards the ground at one hell of a rate. Even from here Cisero could see his heart beating with a wild orange glow through his vest while a few others from his fleet fluttered around him, but none helped. The Angel tumbling down was heading directly for the group of assembled Demons. 

"Bird! Left Flank!" Cisero called and hide a smile of pride when they moved out the way as though they'd done it all their lives. 

Now that they'd been alerted to the presence of the Angel, all eyes had turned to the helpless body that hit the ground with a sickening thump while the ones that had been hovering had pulled up to stay away from the Demons. Cisero strode through the recruits without a word to look down at one of the newly Reincarnated. He was laying on his back, spread-eagle with his wings open beside him. The wild orange pulsing of his heart was still and his breathing was shallow and labored. The large Demon crouched his 6 foot frame  and cautiously examined the Angel, he didn't touch him though, just ran a check over him with his eyes. Nothing that he could see seemed broken. There was no blood or any bones poking through the skin at his present time. Next Cisero allowed his eyes to travel down the outspread wings, these didn't seem broken either, however, one was wounded along the bone. The feathers were missing and the white glean of bone was clearly visible. No feathers grew here either and clearly the muscles that were meant to support this piece of the wing were long gone. Probably the reason he'd fallen in the first place but the injury was an old one.

"He's unconscious." Cisero looked up to the faces of the curious assembled Demons. "Now watch, this Angel is one of the Phoenixes so we can't touch him." Cisero reached back and unsheathed his diamond blade from its scabbard on his back and brought it down as though he wanted to chop off the Angel's head but instead placed the flat of it against his forehead. "Come on Angel, you fleet isn't going to come down here and fetch you." He started talking to the other male softly to try and bring him back the from the darkness that had taken his mind. 

Cisero let his tail rest in the rich brown dirt of Middle Ground and waited a few more moments for any signs of life. The Angel's one foot jerked and he took a deep, panicked breath through his mouth then exhaled it on a loud groan of pain. He started to stir, lolling his head from side to side and wriggling his fingers to regain feeling. 

"There we go. You can't stay down here or I'll have to let my fleet eat you." Cisero crooned in his deep voice and gently lifted his sword from the Angel's head and instead placed it over his chest, motioning for one of the other Demons kneeling opposite to him to hold it down. "Let's go Bumfluff, come back to us, your Angels are looking worried."

The orange glow hammered back into life in the Angels' chest when he finally registered Cisero's words and perhaps the eyes trained on him. He started panting and immediately attempted to sit bolt upright but was held down by the sword and the two Demons on either side. His amber eyes were wild with terror and his red hair looking like liquid flames on the ground where he lay. He didn't try and move again though and took to staring between Cisero and the other Demon holding him down. 

"Welcome." Cisero grunted and his tail began flicking up and down on the ground. "Anything broken?" 

The Angel looked down his wings then back at the Demon General. He shook his head and gradually his breathing slowed down. "Wha-t happene-d....?" He asked in a shaky voice.

"You fell." Cisero answered and slowly took his sword off the Angel's chest. "Nearly toasted my left flank but I saw you, luckily." He put his sword on the ground and rested his hands on his knees. "What's your name?"

"Silas." The Angel said and winced when he tried to move. "Silas Reinhart. It's this wing." He glared at the bared bone on his left wing, the place where his red feathers didn't cover. 

Cisero swept his yellow eyes back to the marred appendage before he stood. "What did you do to it?" He bent to pick sword up before holding it out to the Angel.

"It was an accident." Silas said meekly and took hold of the weapon to allow himself to be slowly pulled upright. When the Demon grunted and he felt another sword being held against his back, he leaned backwards to rest his body. 

"How New are you?" Cisero stabbed his weapon into the ground once Silas had let go and folded his bulky arms again. From the look of the Angel, he couldn't have been more than a few days old. He still had that fresh-faced look about him and slightly confused expression that many of the Reincarnate wore so well. 

Silas squinted as he concentrated. "Two, three weeks maybe?" He tilted his head at the Demon, all traces of his earlier panic gone. Either he knew the other Demons were too shit scared to touch him or he was one brave bastard. 

"In that case, you shouldn't miss your training then should you?" Cisero once again held his sword to him and once Silas had a firm grip on it he slowly pulled him to his feet with the help of the two that had been supporting his back. The Demon stood patiently while Silas found his feet and when he finally stopped swaying and managed to tuck his wings closed, well tuck the one wing closed properly while the other stood slightly open. Once Silas was quite finished brushing the dirt from his camo pants and was certain he wasn't going to fall over, Cisero took a step back along with the rest of the Demons to allow the Angel to take off. Which he didn't. "Planning on staying?"

Silas pressed his lips into a fine line and fixed his amber eyes on grey-skinned Demon. "I can't get off the ground." There was no shyness as one would expect from an Angel that couldn't fly properly or one that had fallen a few hundred feet out the sky. 

Cisero pouted and blew out his cheeks. "What a pity."

"Isn't it just?" Silas replied and cocked an eyebrow. "If you could kindly ask your Demons to move, I will make tracks."

"Now why would I do that? That simply destroys the fun of things. And anyway, this bunch learn to how to handle birds."

"So I'm an experiment?" Nothing but mild curiosity from Silas. 

"If you want to look at it that way. Yes. I trust you know how this works?" Cisero asked as he gestured forward two of the heavier Demons under his command to come forward.

"If I didn't I would be on the ground." Silas stepped onto Cisero's sword which he'd laid on the ground and watched with a confident gaze as the other two Demons took up their stance behind him with the flat of one of their swords against his back , just under his wings. "Are you sure your lizards can lift?"

"Lift your little bum? I'm sure I can throw you with one hand." Cisero bent to hold the hilt of his sword on which Silas was standing while another took the point on the other side. 

"I really don't think we want to find out unless we both want to land up a pile of ash. Now stop gloating and put your money where your mouth is." Silas bent his knees and steadied himself when the Demons lifted him off the ground so he was perched on the one sword and resting against the other. 

"On three. One, two, three." Cisero called and flicked the sword upwards so he launched Silas off the blade and into the air. With a few wobbly pumps and terribly stiff flaps, the Angel found his wings and propelled himself back to his fleet that fluttered around him like butterflies. Cisero watched as they rearranged themselves so Silas was in the middle of them and then carried on their flight. How different Angels were from Demons. They cushioned their weak and made an effort to keep them a functional part of their group while the Demons weeded out the ones that dragged their team down and sent them away for more training. The Demon General looked over the soldiers still staring into the air after the Angels. "Dismissed." He barked and had the satisfaction of watching them jump in surprise at his voice. 

One by one they bowed to him and walked away to step through a sluggish brown portal, swirling against a flat rectangular stone, that would take them to another part of Stasis below Middle Ground; Demenois, where all the Demons in Stasis lived. Cisero looked back to the sky where the Angels had been. How different Demons and Angels were. Balance, that's what it was called. 

*******

He'd been able to bite through the pain for the remainder of his flight but now Silas wished for nothing more than to lay his wing on a chopping board and use a meat clever to remove it. He rolled his shoulders under the cold water than ran down his back from the small waterfall that had been built just behind his home and groaned at the stiff muscles. His back ached from when he'd fallen from the air and hit the ground and counted himself lucky that ended up unconscious instead of being awake. Everything had been going fine, absolutely fine the entire day. He'd even managed to get himself airborne by jumping out a tree and then his wing had collapsed quite out the blue. He'd had the injury nearly since the day he'd been Reincarnated and had learnt to live with it but at times it did give him a nasty surprise. 

Today was one of those days. And of all things he'd had to land in the middle of a Demon fleet, though thankfully they were only trainees. They had seemed more curious and cautious than anything else. He hadn't been afraid of them, he had no need to be. With a touch he could blow up the lot of them, it really would be no loss to him. He lifted his hands and ran them through his red hair, finally feeling his body relax and felt the steam rise off his naturally hot skin. One would think a Phoenix would hate the cold water but it was quite the opposite. The coolness brought a relief to them and was the equivalent to a hot bath for the other Elites. 

Silas wiped the water out his eyes and extended the wing that had been the cause of his embarrassing plummet. It never had healed properly after that day he had been accidentally grabbed by another Phoenix. He thought he'd combust on contact but instead it had been the most agonizing pain he'd ever experienced and he'd screamed, dropping to his knees to try and get away. The other Phoenix bore a mark of the accidental contact as well. Silas ran his fingers down the bone and wet red feathers to the site of the wound, to where the bone showed through and gleamed a brilliant white, to where there were no longer muscles and tendons nor feathers and skin, never would be until he Fell again and Reincarnated. He couldn't remember the day he'd become a Phoenix, not many of them did. All they knew was that it was their duty to keep Stasis safe. 

"Stupid wing." Silas grumbled and let it hang next to the other wing while he finished his shower and made sure he cooled off properly. He pulled his towel off the branch of the nearby tree where he'd hung it, dried his face and arms before rubbing it over his stomach that was hard and ridged with abs then began patting his wings dry. There was only one thing that was going to make him feel better and that was being wrapped up like a burrito in his blankets. 

The part of Stasis where he lived was called Paix and was where all the Angels lived. It was always light here, even when night fell there was a feeling of twilight that never quite plunged them into darkness. They lived in the part above Middle Ground while the Demons lived in the part below where it was either dark or darker than dark. How they enjoyed that, he'd never know. 

Once he was certain his feathers were dry enough he wrapped the towel around his waist, picked up the clothes he'd discarded and headed into his house through the back door. It was cool inside as well, the walls and roof lined with insulating materials that trapped the cold inside and kept the dwellings of Phoenixes bearable. It was simple inside with a small kitchenette lined with white tiles, no place to cook was visible while cupboards and clean counter tops dominated the area. This lead into a small sitting area with one two-seater sofa facing a fireplace that was unlit, a tee-pee of wood standing in the hearth. Upon the mantelpiece where one would think there should be photos there was nothing but a single long sword with a diamond blade, the traditional weapons of Phoenixes. On the wall above the sword hung a board with feathers pinned to it of various shades of red and orange. In total there were 8. There was only one doorway in the house that lead to a bedroom and a small bathroom which was rarely used.

Silas needed to eat and sleep. Getting dressed came second to these bodily demands. He poured himself a cup of water from the pitcher standing on the counter before adding tea leaves and a small scoop of sugar. Or he could just drink tea and go to bed. He traced over to the sofa and carefully lowered himself down so he wouldn't strain anymore muscles or further injure the ones that ached. What he wouldn't do for a back rub round about now... Unfortunately that luxury was taken from him when he was chosen for the honor of being a Phoenix. He sat stiffly while the water in the cup slowly reached boiling point from being clasped in his hands and once the temperature was perfect, he let the energy fall away and he sipped at the sweet brew while he stared fixedly at the nine feathers pinned to the board. The first one was vibrant orange, the second the colour seemed to have dulled slightly. The third had a faint rimming of red around the edges that had kept further up by the fourth feather. Fifth had delicate filaments of red running through the feather to red with the red, the sixth had red outlining the middle shaft. The seventh feather  saw the red spreading and when it came to the eighth feather, the orange was no more. It was a solid, flaming red. The same colour has his wings. 

"Eight times." Silas grumbled into his cup and half-closed his amber eyes at the warmth the tea was spreading through his paining body. 

The Angel curled his legs under him and sank into the corner created by the back and arm of the sofa, his wings opened, the one hanging over the side. Silas's delicate features were relaxed while he studied the board and slowly, the tired expression melted from his face as his head lolled to rest against his shoulder as sleep stole over him.  

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Chapter 1! Let's get this thing rolling! Be sure to let me know what you think so far.


	3. Fallen Feather

' _In order to rise from its own ashes, a Phoenix first must burn._ '

**~Anonymous**

*******

The following morning brought nothing but suffering for Silas. His back, neck and wings were stiff from his fall yesterday and there was training as usual. Getting off the couch where he'd fallen asleep last night had been enough of a challenge but the daily drill the Angel Fleets went through each morning was draining. 

Sweat dripped into his amber eyes and ran in rivers down his chest, between his shoulder blades and wing muscles. His simple black T-shirt clung to his torso and his pants to his upper legs. Silas gritted his teeth against the ache in his arms and lunged forward with the rest of the Elites training with him. It was plain to him and every one around or watching him that he simply wasn't measuring up. He was to slow, couldn't hold his conformation and kept tipping the point of his diamond blade downwards. His breathing was labored and the effort he was having to put in simply to keep up was plain on his handsome face. Earlier on he'd removed his combat boots to try and lightened his step, but even with the feel of the dirt of Middle Ground between his toes, he still couldn't keep up. Ever since he'd Reincarnated, he simply hadn't been as strong as he previously had, not that he remembered anything about the life he'd had before, he'd merely heard the general speaking to one of the Arches. 

Phoenixes were the pride and joy of Stasis, one of the things the Arches made their business. Silas thought they'd weed him out and let him Fall again, but that hadn't been the case. They'd told the general to push him, to force him to become the warrior he was meant to be, he was created to get stronger, faster... But in the past two weeks he had only been getting slower and stiffer. Not so much weaker, he just struggled a lot at times on account of the wound on his wing. It created unnecessary drag and forced his to compensate more than was natural. 

Silas finally dropped his sword in the dirt and bent forward to rest his hands on his knees, gasping for air. He watched as sweat dripped off the point of his nose into the rich brown dirt and onto his toes, felt it burn in the corner of his eyes where it ran in. He shook his head and wiped it away, running his fingers through his wet hair to comb it off his face. The Angel reached forward to pick up his sword but stopped when a slim barefoot with gold painted toenails crunched over the hilt. He looked up into the face of Izural, a charming young Angel with golden, tightly curled blonde hair and blue eyes making in look the walking version of Cupid. He was also the youngest of the Arch Angels. He gave Silas a bright smile that lit his youthful face. 

"Good morning, Reinhart." Izural said in his gentle voice. 

Silas dropped to his knees with his hands behind his back, head bowed in respect to the other Angel. "Arch Angel Izural. Greetings. To what do I owe this pleasure?" The red wing was slightly embarrassed by their meeting. He was sweat-soaked and smelly while the white wing was clean, dressed in Greek style, crisp white robes that seemed to touch rather than cloth his body. 

Izural rested his fist against his cheek and indicated with his other hand that Silas could stand. "Please, no need to be so formal around me." His eyes held a warmth that was rarely seen on Arches as he looked at Silas. "My sister requests your presence. Do not fear, you are in no trouble."

Silas dragged himself to his feet as best he could in front of the Arch Angel and stood with hands behind his back, feet slightly apart and chin up. He was a solider and would act as such. "If I may ask, which sister? Arch Angel Gevenious terrifies me somewhat."

Izural laughed and turned, his soft white clothing swirling behind him as he walked barefoot through the other Angels in the Fleet that were bowing him as he passed. "I assure you, her bark is worse than her bite, but no. Zarall is the one with whom you will speak, my older sister is in Lymbo attending to the Core."

"Asirual and Arch Demon Vulcan are with her I hope." Silas sluggishly followed the pretty Angel, keeping his eyes down so as to not make any eye contact with the others.

Izural laughed, so lightly and carefree. "None of the Arch Demons will be there, Silas. You can relax. As I said, you are in no trouble."

Silas had to admit that he was slightly relieved about that. Izural's oldest sister, Gevenious, had a reputation for being rather fierce and ruthless. The news that none of the Arch Demons would be there was glorifying for him to hear. He wasn't overly fond of Demons, especially not the Arch Demons and especially not the middle brother of the three Demon siblings, Asirual. Their destination wasn't far from where Silas had been training. The Fleets often went through their morning routine on the open ground of Middle Ground, the area that was free of Portal Gates, where dimensions crossed and souls wondered through, and Gateway, a large temple fashioned after the Parthenon in Roman. It was built of shimmering white marble with ivy growing up the pillars and walls. Vibrant green grass grew around it, extending as far as the bottom step where it abruptly stopped. 

As Silas got closer to Gateway, he could see a faint glow  radiating off the marble, giving it an aura of power and value. It was here that the six Arches of Stasis lived, three Demon siblings and three Angel siblings. It was their job to tend to The Core that was housed beneath the temple in a place known as Lymbo,  though no other being in Stasis had ever seen it. Rumors of the beauty of The Core where spread from Elites to their children and told to Reincarnated Phoenixes as part of their history.

Izural walked up the five steps and went to stand beside an Angel with dead straight blonde hair, a shade darker than her brother's, and calm brown eyes. She was clothed in a light pink dress that was fastened around her waist with a simple tie, she to was barefoot. Silas stopped just before the grass started and knelt as he'd done to Izural. Silence hung heavy in the air only to be broken by footfalls and the crunching of dirt. Silas chanced a sideways glance first to his left then to his right. Five other Angels had joined him. One other Phoenix was among them. All in all there were six of them and the two Arches. 

"Why are you all looking so worried?" Zarall laughed shortly before descending the five stairs. "You have done nothing wrong. The six of you have been chosen to take part in the Pairing Project. It is conducted every few years and helps to keep the balance and understanding between the Angels and the Demons." The Arch Angel was walking slowly around them with the tips of her white wings dragging on the ground. "You will each be paired with a Demon, the two of you will live together, first in the Demon's home and then in your home. You will have to learn to work together, co-operate to form a team that can fight and reside alongside each other in peace. This you must learn in the time period allocated. When it is over, you and the Demon will undergo a series of tests. If you pass, it means you have gained yourself a worthy companion and most likely, friend. If you fail, you will be paired with another and the process will start over again. You will discover," Zarall had walked back up the steps to stand alongside her brother again, "that the Shadow Children are not as bad as you think."

The other Phoenix lifted her head to speak but she kept her eyes down cast. "Arch Angel Zarall, a question if I may?" On a nod from the Arch Angel, she continued. "You say it is possible for us and a Demon to become a team...? You speak as though you yourself have been through it."

Zarall looked over her shoulder at Izural and they both shrugged as though coming to a silent agreement. "I have. Izural has as well. My Demon partner is Arch Demon Beahatric and Izural's is Asirual. Arch Angel Gevenious and Arch Demon Vulcan are the only the two out of the six of us that haven't. As the oldest, it is their job to be on top guard and wary of everything, even of each other." 

The Phoenix nodded and settled down, bowing her head again. 

Zarall continued speaking. "Today, you will each receive an address, Port Key to Demenious and a key to enter the Demon's home. They will be waiting for you. Just as you don't know who you will be paired with, neither do they. My advice; the sooner the better. So don't wait until the next day to start working on your relationship, start the moment you see each other." Her brown eyes raked over the assembled Angels. "Phoenixes, be careful. I don't want any explosions and I don't want to have you swept up and brought back in a jar."

Izural giggled, but he was the only one who did. The other Angels were silent. Of course they didn't like this idea, what Angel would jump at the chance to spend weeks with a Demon? But they didn't have a choice in the matter, they'd been chosen and that was that. The project had been in place for centuries already, so obviously it worked. When neither Zarall nor Izural said anything more, the Angels rose one by one, bowed and turned to go back to their Fleets. Silas was the last to rise. He had gone stiff in the time that he had been kneeling and it was a little bit of a struggle to get back onto his feet. 

Soft footfalls alerted him to the fact that he wasn't alone. He looked up to gaze into Izural's concerned blue eyes. "I wish I could help you." The young Arch Angel said and held his hands behind his back. 

Silas chuckled. "You're an Arch Angel, there is no need for you to ever wish you could. I'm fine. Don't worry." Using the bend of his good wing, Silas pushed himself up, stumbled for a second while he struggled to find balance with his wounded wing before finding his composure again. "There, see? I'm fine, nothing to worry about." He bowed to Izural and turned to do the same for Zarall, but she had already left. Silas turned and plodded across the rich earth but again, the sound of soft footfalls. He stopped and waited until they halted next to him before looking up. It was Izural. "Is there something else?" He asked warily. 

Izural shook his head so his golden curls bounced around his face. "I'm just going to walk with you."

"Back to my Fleet?" Silas questioned and tried his best to tuck his drooping wing against his back, but of course there was no such luck. 

"No silly. Home. You are not going back to them today. You need to rest." Izural gave Silas a warm smile. "Don't think you'll be in trouble now, what an Arch Angel says goes, remember?" 

Silas was about to open his mouth but closed it when he realized the blonde Angel was right. There were strict rules in place in Stasis but all of them could be overruled by word of one of the Arches. Silas trudged along with Izural beside him to Angel Gate, a lazy silver portal that swirled against a large slab of marble a distance from the open grounds where the Fleets trained. Without pausing, both Angels stepped through and came out on the other side in Angelase, commonly known as Angel Residence. Homes were dotted at random around the twilight landscape, each Elite and Phoenix had been given the choice of where they wanted to live and for the Phoenixes, a small waterfall had been constructed by the Arch Angels behind their homes. Just like the one Silas had been standing under the night before. 

Silas fluttered his wings as though he wanted to fly but closed them as soon as the wounded one stuck and refused to open fully. He bowed his head again, stuffed his hands into the pockets of his pants and began plodding to the little dwelling towards the outskirts of the land. Some days, if he came through the portal with enough speed and force, he could get a lift and fly to his place, other days, it was a silent 15 minute walk. The rush of wind behind him indicated that Izural had taken off and was probably expecting him to follow. 

"I can't Arch Angel...." Silas started to say but was halted when he was booped on the head with the point of a sword. Looking up, it was to see Izural holding his diamond blade out to him. 

"I'll give you a lift and some wind." When Silas looked skeptical about the whole idea, Izural merely grinned showing both his dimples on either side of his cheeks. "Oh come on... I'm not as scrawny as I look."

Silas felt it rude to refuse his help and grudgingly took hold of the blade, thankfully he still had his black, fingerless gloves on from training to avoid having his palms sliced open. Izural pumped his wings and gave an almighty heave, ripping Silas off his feet. The red head spread his wings and beat into the air currents Izural had created and was mildly surprised when he felt himself ascending.  He waited till he was high enough before letting go of the sword and steadying himself. 

"Done this often?" 

Izural shook his head. "No, I just know what to do, as I said, I'm not as scrawny as I look." He swerved in the air as though to bump his shoulder against Silas's but stopped when he remembered it would lead to imminent combustion. He might be an Arch Angel, but that meant nothing to a Phoenix's Flame.

They flew in silence, there was nothing to be side in the short flight to Silas's home. Izural kept his snow white wing slightly under Silas's struggling red one in case he should falter, even though he could do nothing. Both Angels landed a few meters away from the door; Izural coming down light as a feather while Silas somewhat fell and flailed before he had a mild crash against the base of one of the two trees that grew next to his home. Shaking his head, he dragged himself to his feet, already feeling the stiffness creeping into his joints from yet another knock. He picked the leaves from his hair as he walked back to the blonde Angel waiting for him at the door.

A look of pity was written over Izural's cherub features. "You're looking quite awful, Silas Reinhart."

"I know." Silas grunted back and unlocked the simple wooden door, standing back to allow the Arch Angel to enter first as was custom. Once Izural wisped inside, he followed to find the Angel standing staring at the board above his fireplace where the eight feathers were pinned. "May I offer you something to drink?"

Izural pouted his delicate pink lips. "You keep them?"

Confused at first by the question, Silas looked up and then registered what he was asking. "Yes... Eight times." He came to stand beside the Arch Angel and crossed his arms. He was slightly taller than the pale blonde and his complexion was dark compared to Izural's. "Look how they change. It's odd, don't you think?"

"Indeed." Izural answered and reached out to touch the feathers pinned to the board. "The only time you're able to touch a Phoenix's feathers..." He muttered to himself before speaking to Silas again. "Your Flame seems to change each time you Reincarnate, it is strange... I don't recall ever seeing anything like this before." His youthful face crumpled in confusion. It was strange, that he was probably centuries older than Silas, yet he looked to be around his early twenties and Silas appeared to be somewhere in his late twenties or early thirties. But he was young in terms of being an Arch Angel.

"With some luck I'll blow up in my sleep." Silas rolled his shoulders and suddenly realized that the movement was a lot easier and a lot lighter than it usually was... "Oh... Arch Angel, I left my sword on the training grounds."

Izural kept his eyes on the board, reached back and slid Silas's sword out a scabbard on his back. "I had another Elite bring it to me while my sister was speaking with you." He laid it on the mantelpiece. Izural usually carried two swords, explaining why he had extra space for another as he only hand one of his own diamond blades with him. "And this is for you as well." He slid a cream coloured envelope from an inner pocket of his outfit and laid this on the hilt of the sword. 

Silas took it cautiously and turned it over to read the front; it bore nothing but his name in flamboyant writing that he recognized as Gevenious's. He was about to open it when Izural walked with that graceful stride of his to the door.  "I bid you farewell, Silas. Good luck with the Demon. I would take you up on the offer for something to drink, but my sisters will be wondering where I am." He paused with his hand on the door handle to gaze back at Silas who was still standing in front of the hearth with the envelope in his hand. His pale pink lips twitched as though he wanted to say something but he merely nodded and left. 

Silas bowed his head in respect and breathed a sigh as soon as the door closed. Being around an Arch of any kind made him nervous. Izural was a sweet Angel though, always friendly and ready to lend a hand but the red head had no doubt that he could become something of an avenging horror if need be. Silas might have the ability to kill with a single touch, but if he couldn't get close to his victim, he was dead meat and it was well known that the Arches had mastered the art of AngelFire. It was a terrible thing, so he'd heard... Shaking off the thought, Silas turned his attention back to the envelope Izural had given him. It was heavy and he could definitely feel a key inside it. 

Heart thumping in his chest, he turned it over and slipped his thumb under the flap, gently prying it open. Inside was a single card, a grey stone and a silver key. Address, Port Key and house key... The map to the Demon he was to be paired with. 

*******

Cisero ripped his leather vest over his head, got it caught on his horns and with a snarl, tore it off and threw it on the ground. He gave the crumpled pile of leather a vicious kick before slapping his hands palm down on the counter. He'd been on patrol with a group of fully trained Elites when the youngest of the Demon Arches had flown to him and requested his presence. Beahatric had lead him to Gateway where it was explained to him and five other Demons that he had been chosen to part-take in the Pairing Project. He knew about it, had read of it and even witnessed it with a cheeky smile. But never had he actually been involved in it. He had never wanted to be involved in it and had Arch Demon Vulcan not been standing there, glaring at them with one yellow eye, he'd have kindly told Beahatric's brother, Asurial, to choose another. 

But Vulcan had been there and beyond anything, he didn't want to have any dealings with the oldest Arch. No one did, and everyone made sure they steered clear of him. 

Cisero opened the cupboard and took out a bottle of Whiskey and a small glass, poured himself a shot and downed it with ease. The alcohol would never get to his stomach, it would have evaporated by then on account of his intense internal body temperature but the bitter taste on his tongue still felt good. Training the new recruits was tough enough as it was, now he was to do it with one of those Feather Kids by his side, what made it harder was that he had to put in extra effort to not touch the stupid thing. Knowing his luck, he was going to end up with some brain dead teenage Elite with wild fantasies of being the first person to ever touch a Phoenix... 

No the thought of that made his toes curl and his wings that were safely hidden under his skin, along his spine, twitch. The feeling was unpleasant. Cisero straightened and rubbed his hands over his face, the action causing the muscles in his arms and stomach to ripple in the low lighting in his home. Unlike the Angels' homes, the Demons' were either low lit or dark. The atmosphere in Demenois remained in a state that could either be described as early evening or the dead of night. 

The general undid the buckle on his belt, slipped it out the loopholes and threw it onto the granite tiles of his kitchen floor. Next went his pants which left him standing in a pair of boxers and his black gloves. The muscles on his thick upper thighs were defined in an almost artistic way with shadow and minimal lighting as was was the spined ridge that ran all the way down his bulky back. When he moved to retrieve his towel from the rack that he had mounted next to the back door, every inch of his body worked together in perfect harmony that made his being seem as though it had been intentionally carved from stone and had life breathed into it. 

Cisero shouldered the door open as though it was nothing and stomped outside to wash the grime of the day off himself. There was nothing he could do, all he could do was wait for that feathered creature to arrive and hope it had something beside air between its ears. Asirual had said he could be expecting the Angel anytime from this evening to early the next morning and so help it if it decided to march in here while he was sleeping. 

 

**Author's Note:**

> Welcome to a creation I dreamed up. I thought it might be interesting to put a twist on the normal Angel/Demon thing. Stick around and see what I've come up with eh? I promise to blow your mind and keep you entertained....


End file.
